I was sitting at the dining room table with my father when I said it.
We were playing backgammon while T and our relatives were sitting behind me in the living room, watching television. I could see the steam rising from the cup of tea he had just poured himself. My tongue was still tingling from the single-malt Scotch sitting in front of me. I smiled as I took my turn; I was about to beat my father handily for the second straight game. Then, while my father was getting ready to roll the dice, I blurted it out.
“Tell me some Grandpa stories.” Continue reading “Compassion For a Military Man”
